Andrew Pringle's epistle. "Damn it," said he, "I
thought myself in a fog, and could not tell whether the land ahead
was Plada or the Lady Isle." Some of the company thought the
observation not inapplicable to what they had been hearing.
Miss Isabella Tod then begged that Miss Mally, their hostess, would
favour the company with Mrs. Pringle's communication. To this
request that considerate maiden ornament of the Kirkgate deemed it
necessary, by way of preface to the letter, to say, "Ye a' ken that
Mrs. Pringle's a managing woman, and ye maunna expect any
metaphysical philosophy from her." In the meantime, having taken
the letter from her pocket, and placed her spectacles on that
functionary of the face which was destined to wear spectacles, she
began as follows:-
LETTER XI
Mrs. Pringle to Miss Mally Glencairn
My Dear Miss Mally--We have been at the counting-house, and gotten a
sort of a satisfaction; what the upshot may be, I canna take it upon
myself to prognosticate; but when the waur comes to the worst, I
think that baith Rachel and Andrew will have a nest egg, and the
Doctor and me may sleep sound on their account, if the nation doesna
break, as the argle-barglers in the House of Parliament have been
threatening: for all the cornal's fortune is sunk at present in the
pesents.
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